Sleeping Dragon No sleep in Toronto

If it had been up to Thuringwethil, she would have spent all day just watching Wildfire handle each one and get to know them. She'd lost herself in the murmurs of the girl against the puppy that a knotted feeling—not entirely unpleasant, she realizes—in the pit of her stomach. It isn't until she's spoken to, a gentle thank you that brings her back to reality. She looks up from the wiggling Freyja to Wildfire and simply nods her head.

The question about Gyda makes her frown and she glances down when she realizes the puppies are simply for fantasy's gain. Wildfire's kiss to her muzzle shakes her enough to rid the feeling and shift a little upright.

"Probably," she says after a moment. She doesn't think Gyda would mind a visitor during her watch, though the protectiveness of a predator is never something to toy with. She noses under Wildfire's chin gently and caresses the soft fur there to lead her out of the den once the puppies had been regrouped again. "They'll be growing before you know it," she adds in assurance that it certainly won't be the last time.